false

He says he's changed
He says he's stopped the addiction
He says he'll make an effort
To dial the numbers and write the notes and plan the days and see my face
But even as these words trickle off his tongue I remember every lie and every sigh passing from innocent mouths on cold, hard nights when tears dropped down, soaking faded linen.
Does he honestly expect to impress me with these "changes"?
Maybe he's rid himself of the naked reality, but that doesn't mean that magazines don't lurk beneath his covers and warm his skin every moment temptation tugs
Every smile fades once the night falls
Leaving no more time to act
He's lost that chance countless times. One apple pie won't make up for hidden messages.

If ever there was hope, he never expressed desire to lock it in my heart
So where are these words coming from!?
An awkward soul...that is he.
Change is not what I want
Change will never be
Nor ever bring connection, expression, passion, and reaction---this is for what i crave
For now his reactions are one gaze followed by an indescribable evaporation.

So we'll eat and dance and drive
But that one night means nothing. Not to me. It can't
And dancing will not break the white clouds I set sight upon
Eating will divide between our leather pockets
...i think?
And that question posed must stay, for I have not figured out where to end this possibility. My answer will break. My answer might take that cute crooked grin.
But how could he ever expect otherwise? That's the question I choose to pose.
When did I cross the line and when did he follow? Maybe the events rolled in reverse.



So I'll respond with a no
And the night shall echo.